The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  It was hard to rule as a queen when you didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  Gant bent over, unable to stop coughing, and Jael handed him the water bag.

  He nodded his thanks, taking a long drink and clearing his throat. ‘I know Ravenna. Why? Are you thinking you can worm your way around Raymon by talking to his mother?’

  ‘Not really. I just know what people have said about the sort of man Hugo Vandaal was. A spineless, greedy idiot. Much like Lothar. I was hoping Raymon might have one worthwhile parent. That he wasn’t just another greedy king looking to line his pockets. Though we can promise him gold if that’s what he wants.’

  ‘We can?’ Gant had taken another long drink before handing back the water bag. ‘You’d better fill that again,’ he added sheepishly.

  ‘The southern kingdoms are rich. Dripping in gold. If Raymon Vandaal’s eyes are on a prize, he can help himself to one when we defeat Draguta. He just needs to give us his army first. A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?’

  Gant narrowed his grainy eyes. ‘You’re that persuasive, are you?’

  ‘Me? I doubt it, but I can try. And I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to get his army, his archers, his weapons. We’ve no idea what we’ll face in Hest and Helsabor, but I can guarantee you that it won’t be as easy as that little dragur attack!’

  Jaeger felt confused as he made his way upstairs. His dreams had been full of vivid, swirling images of Draguta and the book. And now, instead of being fearful of her return, his body was tingling at the thought of it.

  He could feel that she was close.

  It was as though her voice was coursing through him like blood.

  He could almost feel her inside his head. He could think of nothing else but the urgent need to prepare the castle. His men too. He had to do what he could to ensure that Draguta was pleased with what she saw when she returned.

  Jaeger’s certainty clouded again, and he blinked, trying to clear the fog as he spied Meena scurrying away down the corridor. ‘Meena!’ he called, but she didn’t turn around. She froze, though, right before his chamber door. ‘Meena!’ he called again, and this time she turned ever so slowly towards him, cradling the Book of Darkness in her arms.

  Jaeger’s eyes sharpened. ‘Where are you going with the book?’ He felt suspicious; instantly protective of it. Every hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

  ‘I was... I... I was returning it,’ Meena mumbled, trying to meet his eyes.

  ‘Returning it?’ Jaeger frowned. ‘Why did you take it out of the chamber? Why, Meena?’ He could feel his temper rising as he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  ‘I, I took it to Morana,’ Meena hurriedly explained. ‘To see if it would help her. Dragmall... he thinks Morana can help break the curse. I thought the book might help.’

  Jaeger felt strange. He had wanted to bring Morana back. To have her read the book. But now? ‘And did it?’ he wondered. ‘Help her?’

  Meena realised that she hadn’t thought of what to say about that. Knowing that Jaeger was now bound to Draguta made things much more confusing. ‘No.’ It popped out of her mouth quickly.

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised,’ Jaeger growled, not caring either way. ‘Besides, it would be better if Morana stays like she is. Imagine what Draguta will do if she finds her alive and well when she returns?’ He stepped past Meena and opened the door, pushing her into the chamber.

  Meena almost tripped over her feet. ‘Returns?’ she wondered lightly. ‘You think she’s returning?’

  Jaeger shut the door and turned around with a smile. ‘Yes, she is. Tomorrow.’

  Evaine had hoped not to sit on a horse again for some time, but at least she had Eadmund beside her, and they were only riding during the day.

  All five of them.

  Draguta had informed Rollo that he would be accompanying them, which was news to Rollo, but Draguta insisted that Eadmund could not be without him now; not after how expertly Rollo had trained him so far. And after suitably burnishing the giant’s already enormous ego, she then went on to offer him a substantial reward of Hestian gold, which he could happily take back to Flane once she was satisfied with Eadmund’s progress. If, of course, he chose not to stay in the obviously superior surrounds of the city.

  Draguta glanced at Eadmund, whose face had turned a deep, golden brown after only a few days of training in Flane’s sunshine. He was squinting, rubbing the dusty sweat out of his eyes, hoping to see a cloud coming.

  It was so oppressively hot.

  Draguta was thrilled. The sun was bright, and her spirits had lifted considerably after the dragur disaster. She was getting closer to home. Closer to her beloved Book of Darkness; to Morana, Meena, and Jaeger.

  All of those responsible for her death.

  How unnecessary it had all been.

  Though, when she dreamed about it now, she was beginning to realise that it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Edela was unsettled as she looked Jael over; surprised that she was leaving so quickly; not really listening until something stood out. ‘Again?’ she exclaimed. ‘The raven came again?’

  Jael nodded, sipping the passionflower tea Biddy had made her. The cup warmed her hands which were still throbbing from fighting off the dragur.

  ‘The gods are trying to help us,’ Edela decided. ‘The raven must be Dala trying to help. To warn you of danger.’

  ‘Well, I hope she comes along to Rissna, then,’ Jael grinned, trying not to let her gloomy feelings trap her. The smoke from the pyres mingled with the smoke from the sea-fire, and she thought of Eirik for the first time in days, feeling guilty for leaving his island and losing his son.

  Not to mention the grandchild he’d wanted so desperately.

  ‘What is it?’ Edela wondered, watching Jael’s face shifting through many different emotions.

  Jael didn’t want to say what it was. It was too many things. ‘I’m just hoping you’ll be alright while we’re gone. We won’t be away too long. We just need to make our plans with Raymon Vandaal, assuming, of course, I can convince him that we should be making plans together.’

  Edela’s eyes drifted to Biddy, who was frowning as she chopped carrots on the table. ‘You needn’t worry about us. I think Eydis and I have proven that we’ve got everything under control, with a little help from Ayla, of course. You don’t need a sword to save people, you know. Not always.’

  ‘True. But it does come in handy sometimes,’ Jael said, remembering the serpent.

  ‘We’ll be keeping a close eye on you all, don’t worry. And I shall study the book, so I know what I’m doing when the next crisis comes along. You’ll be safe, I’m sure, and so will we.’ Edela’s voice shook, and she felt worried because she didn’t know if that was true anymore.

  But Jael heard the tremor in her grandmother’s voice, and so did Biddy, and nobody spoke for a while after that.

  Karsten had carried Nicolene back to their cottage, but one look at her face as she scanned the bare walls and the dirt floor and Bayla’s unhappy scowl, and he realised that she had probably been enjoying the peace and quiet of Entorp’s tent.

  But then she saw her two little sons toddling towards her, and she burst into tears.

  So did they.

  Karsten laid Nicolene on a bed, draping a fur over her, trying to stop Kai and Eron from pulling themselves up onto the bed. ‘Wait, wait,’ he said, not wanting to get cross, though he had little patience after two sleepless nights. ‘Here, Kai, come here.’ And picking up his youngest son, Karsten plonked him on his knee. Kai was quickly reaching for Nicolene who held out her arms as he crawled away from his father into them. Smiling, Karsten bent down to Eron next, but his eldest son just lay his head on his father’s knee, waiting his turn.

  Turning around, Karsten saw Irenna and Haegen’s three children sitting on the opposite bed with something between envy and sadness in their eyes. Neither of their parents were coming back, and the reality of that was growing more p
ainful with each terrifying day.

  Bayla looked relieved as she turned to Ulf who had brought her a basket of fruit. She handed it to her servant and hurried Ulf outside, inclining her head for Berard to join them.

  ‘Do you think, Ulf dear, you could ask about...’ she began, searching for the right words, ‘whether there are any spare houses? Bigger houses? Not like this miserable shed, which is far too small for our family. With that many children, and Karsten and Nicolene needing their privacy. Berard too. It just won’t do.’ Bayla smiled at Ulf who looked surprised. ‘There must be some spare after the dragur attack. Many were killed. Andalans who had homes. Empty homes now perhaps?’

  ‘Mother!’ Berard hissed, glancing around. ‘What are you doing? Stealing houses from the dead?’

  Bayla looked indignant. ‘What I’m doing is my best for this family. As I have always done. Have we not suffered ourselves? We are not blacksmiths or tanners. We are not servants or stable hands. We are the royal family of Hest and one day soon we will return to our kingdom, and Karsten will take back the throne from your murderous brother, but until then, I do not see why we should be forced to sleep in a crumbling shack that smells of horse shit!’

  Ulf blinked, looking at Amma Furyck who had stopped to stare as she walked back to the hall with Eydis. He tried to smile, but Amma just looked embarrassed, quickly hurrying Eydis along.

  Berard looked even more embarrassed, noticing that more people than just Amma Furyck were staring. Bayla was used to commanding attention everywhere she went, but she was not a queen in Andala, and she had no more right to comfort and space than anyone else who was grieving and homeless.

  Ulf took a deep breath and braved Bayla’s sharp tongue. ‘There will be houses, of course, but perhaps it’s best if we wait a few days? Let people settle down, find their way. Grieve.’ He felt Bayla tense. ‘I’ll ask around, don’t worry, but best give it a few days.’

  ‘But soon you’ll be gone,’ Bayla panicked, turning to Karsten who had come out to see what was going on. ‘Tomorrow, you’ll be gone!’

  Karsten nodded, happy about that. The sun was struggling to pierce the hazy veil of smoke, and the afternoon light was faint, but he still found himself squinting into it after the darkness of the windowless cottage. ‘We can’t go back to Hest if we don’t get rid of Jaeger. We can’t take back what’s ours unless we leave, Mother. We’re not going to be able to do it from behind these walls.’

  Bayla sighed heavily, knowing that he was right, but terrified that neither of them would return for her. She peered at Ulf. ‘And what about you, then? Are you leaving too?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’ll be here, watching the fort. I’ve been tasked with getting that harbour right, which will take some doing.’

  Bayla tried not to smile, but she was pleased. Ulf still looked like an old beggar, but she didn’t know what she’d do without him now. He always seemed to be there when she needed him most. And he was so oddly calm too, no matter what disaster befell them. ‘Well, you’d better head off, then, and see what you can do about that new house, even if you have to whisper your enquiries ever so delicately. I am not going to last long in there!’

  Ulf shook his head, smiling as Bayla disappeared back inside the cottage, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.

  Dragmall brought Meena and Else back to Morana’s chamber that afternoon. He had spent most of the morning in the quiet of his cave, looking through his books, contemplating what was possible.

  He knew magical symbols, though it had always been his choice to stay in the light. He had seen what dark magic did to people. His mother had been a Tuuran dreamer. A Follower. A terrifying woman who had eventually left both him and his father to return to Tuura. He was never sure if it was the poisonous ways of The Following that had consumed her soul or whether she had been born that way. His father had been a kind man who had found something to love in her once, though, so Dragmall was convinced that practising dark magic for so many years had corrupted a once loving woman, turning her into an ogre.

  After much research, Dragmall believed that he had found the curse-breaking symbol, but he felt sick at the thought of using it to help Morana, who was surely evil.

  But without her...

  ‘We must act quickly.’ Dragmall’s frown was a jagged canyon between his bushy, white eyebrows. ‘Draguta will be here soon.’

  Meena nodded, worried herself, remembering the certainty in Jaeger’s voice. She turned to her aunt whose good eye was watering. She looked as terrified as Meena felt.

  Draguta would surely kill them both.

  ‘I have the symbol we need,’ Dragmall announced, retrieving a scrap of vellum from his pouch. ‘If you agree, Morana?’ And he lifted it towards her, holding it up to her eye.

  They all leaned forward, peering at the black-and-white haired dreamer, wanting to see some acknowledgement, but there was little Morana could do. In the end, she managed to blink her eye, hoping that it would be enough.

  ‘I think it’s a yes,’ Else decided, eager to get on. ‘Now, what else do you need?’

  ‘From what you’ve said, she merely threw the curse in a fit of anger. There was no ceremony or ritual, so I need nothing, except Morana’s blood.’ Dragmall handed the vellum to Else, and turned to Meena, drawing his knife from its scabbard, spinning it around and offering Meena the haft. ‘I think we’d all prefer it if you collected her blood.’

  Meena’s eyes rounded, and so did Morana’s, as she took the knife and stepped towards her aunt.

  Jael was pleased to see that preparations for their departure were almost complete, thanks to Gant and Oleg. She felt sad, thinking about those they’d lost fighting the dragur. Men with experience. Trusted men who had stood by her father’s side, and her own; those she felt confident in leaving behind to command the garrison.

  There weren’t as many left now.

  But there was always Bram Svanter.

  ‘Me?’ Bram was shocked, glancing at Runa who stood beside him looking just as surprised. He was sharing his cottage with her now; Runa having decided that she needed to help him and feed him until he could get about by himself.

  Which would be in no time at all, according to Bram.

  Fyn was staying there too. It was a small cottage, and they all felt awkward around each other, but there was an unspoken sense that that was where they needed to be for now. And as strange and new as it felt, it was, at least, a place to begin.

  Fyn sat on one of the beds, not knowing where to look.

  ‘You’ve a calm, wise head, Bram, and we need one of those. And you can’t come with us, so we have to put you to good use here,’ Jael smiled. ‘Gisila will be in charge of the fort. She knows how everything runs. But you will command the garrison, if you think you’re up to it? It means getting the sea-fire ready. More arrows. Overseeing the repairs in and out of the fort. Checking on Ulf’s rebuilding of the harbour. I know you’re a man of the sea. Maybe it’s not what you want, but it would put my mind at ease knowing that you’re here. With my family. With yours too,’ she said, looking around at the three faces who all suddenly froze.

  ‘I....’ Bram inhaled, feeling the strain of breathing; quickly latching onto it as an excuse, though it was getting easier, he knew. And really, he would be of more use walking around the fort, barking orders and thinking of how to keep them all safe than trekking to Rissna, sleeping on whatever piece of dirt he could find. ‘And what about your brother?’ he wondered, staring up at Jael. ‘Does he want to leave his fort in my hands?’

  ‘He does. I’ve recommended you highly.’

  Bram blinked, trying not to show the burst of pride he suddenly felt or the unfamiliar lack of confidence that quickly followed it. He glanced at Fyn who appeared to be growing taller by the day. ‘And what about Fyn? He’s no better than me. Are you leaving him behind too?’

  Fyn’s eyes bulged as he turned to Jael.

  She shook her head. ‘No. Fyn’s with me. He’s my man. He goes whe
re I go, even if he’s limping. And a few days on horseback will sort him out. Plus a few days of sitting around while we’re negotiating.’ Jael tried not to roll her eyes at the thought of what lay ahead, hoping that Raymon Vandaal would not bring his wife to Rissna. ‘By the time we depart for Hest, he’ll be battle ready again.’

  Fyn looked relieved.

  Bram frowned, not wanting to think that he was about to lose the son he’d only just found. He could feel Runa tense beside him, knowing that she felt the same.

  ‘But...’ Runa began.

  ‘Mother, I need to go. I want to go. I’ll be ready, don’t worry.’

  ‘Speaking of going, I have to go and check on the sea-fire. We need wagon loads of it to take down to Hest, so we have to double our production now. Hopefully, we won’t blow ourselves up before we get there!’

  Runa looked horrified.

  Fyn grinned. ‘Don’t worry, Mother. We sailed all the way to Skorro without blowing ourselves up. We’ll be fine.’

  Jael stopped at the door, looking back into the cottage. ‘So, that was a yes, then? You’ll do it?’

  Bram looked at Runa who was already nodding as he joined her. ‘It was. A yes. I’ll do it. I’ll look after your fort.’

  Meena jumped, surprised by a knock on the door. Else looked at Dragmall, who stopped carving the symbol into the flagstone by Morana’s feet.

  They all stared at the door which was locked and being banged on again.

  ‘Throw that bed fur over the symbol,’ Dragmall hissed, creaking upright.